


The Sound of Silence

by Whyaretheyfictionalcharacters77



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bittersweet Ending, Implied Relationships, M/M, My First Fanfic, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 13:47:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8164057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whyaretheyfictionalcharacters77/pseuds/Whyaretheyfictionalcharacters77
Summary: He walked towards him before stopping a few inches away and the only thing he could feel was embarrassment: he was so old while he was still the young, alive, bright brat he had known so many decades ago, the brat he had learnt to love.





	

It was a dream, it had to be. Couldn't be otherwise if he was completely surrounded by darkness.

No, it wasn't darkness. It was blackness. He could see where he was but there was nothing to _see_ , only black; nothing to feel, only silence. He tried to look around him but nothing was changing, there was no hint of light, no hint of colour.

He lifted his hand and lowering his gaze on it he studied it, surprised by the fact that he could clearly see his pale skin and his fingers just as if he was standing in the light. But there was no light there. Lowering more his gaze, he noticed that he was wearing his uniform, a uniform that he hadn't been wearing in years. So, so many years. Since _that_  day. That day had been the last day he had obeyed an order, the last day of his life in the military, in the Scouting Legion.

And now, after all those dreadful years, he was wearing those fucking wings on his back again. Fucking-tastic.

He took a step forward and stopped abruptly when he couldn't hear any kind of sound coming from underneath him. He looked down and took another step but again, no sound.

 _This is getting pretty creepy, pretty fast_. With a bored shrug he started walking in no determined direction. He kept on looking around but nothing changed.

 _One of the most fucking weird dreams ever_.

As he walked towards nothingness, he narrowed his eyes, catching sight of something in front of him.

Were they...people?

Realisation got the best of him and his brows knitted as those tiny points walked silently and slowly towards him. He stopped, body tensed and ready to move to escape that dreadful horde of people that was approaching him. The more they were getting closer, the more he was tensing up, hands clenched into fists and silver eyes two narrow slits.

And then, as they kept on walking and walking towards him, he noticed it. Their clothes. They were _all_ wearing the Wings of Freedom. All of them.

He tried to take a step back but his feet couldn't seem to obey him. The only thing he could do was stay there, awaiting dreadfully as those soldiers approached him, getting nearer and nearer and nearer…

He felt in his body the clear feeling of death. He was about to die by the hands of his own soldiers. Of course. That was fucking poetic, wasn't it? The same people, the same kids that he led to their deaths were now here to take their revenge. And fuck him if he wouldn't let them. He was so fucking tired of living, so tired of sitting in that chair in front of the window and await Death to claim him. He had let them die. It was only fair that he paid the toll by their hands.

He could only imagine how they felt. Angry, sad, betrayed. It had been his fault. He was the one who had failed, not them. He was the one that couldn't save them.

 _“You can't save anyone, Eren”_. Tsk, what a pitiful excuse of human being he was. Humanity's Strongest his ass. With old age came wisdom, how many fucking times had he heard that? Well, he was pretty sure that with his old age came also the realization of how desperate humanity had been to establish a title as stupid as that.

He hadn't been strong enough to save them all. He hadn't been strong enough to save Isabel nor Farlan. He hadn't been strong enough to save his squad. He hadn't been strong enough to save _him_. It hadn't been strength that let him survive. No. He had been just unlucky.

He had been unlucky all his life, hadn't he? Surviving despite everything, seeing everyone he had cared about dying...by his own hands.

As he watched the horde of people marching slowly towards him, he closed his eyes, accepting what was about to happen. Behind his lids, he saw pieces of memories that happened long time ago, when he was still Humanity's Strongest; memories that he should have forgotten by now but that had been with him every day for thirty years.

He could almost feel the rain hitting his body, drenching his uniform and sliding down to hit the wooden stage.

It hadn't been opened to civilians. Only military had been present, that day. He had been able to see some fuckers of the Military Police smirking as they brought _him_ onto the stage while the Captain stood there, head lowered and drenched hair hiding his face from the people watching.

He remembered hearing the painful screams of Mikasa (or was it Jean?) as someone was trying to hold her back. He walked to the knelt body, his boots a few inches away from the other's head.

The courtyard had been silent apart from that yelling that he couldn't seem to place in his memory. He had looked down and stared at the arched back as the brat's knelt figure bent into itself. He had stared at those wings decorating his back and he remembered thinking “Is this what they fucking want? Me murdering the reason why they are fucking breathing? Is this fucking justice?”.

He remembered feeling his face contorting into a grimace and his teeth gritting, his hand clenching painfully tight onto the hilt of his sword.

And then his deaf ears had heard him calling softly his name – _his name_ – and he had shifted his gaze to look into teal eyes, silver orbs studying the grown up face that he had learned to love in those five years.

 _“We made a promise”_ , _he_ had whispered to him with a sad smile on _his_ face. _“We would kill them all. For the glory of Humanity...Captain”_.

He hadn't been able to do nothing more than looking at _him_ and admire, once again, his shitty brat. Defiant and determined even in death. He remembered raising his sword and lowering it again with force and precision on that bare nape.

As the blade of the sword cut the first inch of skin, he opened his eyes, staring again at the horde of people walking towards him...

And walking past him. Without a glance, without a sound. They simply walked past him without even noticing him. He turned around, stunned by their indifference in his presence. They weren't there for him, then? They weren't going to kill him? Did he have to wake up from that dream and keep on living his cursed life?

Something, a _feeling_ , told him to look forward again and he did; he felt his blood running cold at the sight in front of him.

There were four people walking towards him as they looked at him, their face smiling like they were happy to see them. They stood out from the nameless crowd of kids and adults that were strolling all around him, flooding past him just as if he were a stone in the middle of a river.

Despite all the years that had passed, he still remembered those faces and those names. How could he forget? The same people he couldn't save...his squad.

Small hazel eyes that had tried for so long to imitate him; long dark brown eyes, still serious and sharp; big black eyes that he could still see were thinking with reason even in that weird dream; loving honey eyes that looked at him with a tenderness and a respect that he had rarely seen in his subordinates.

They were _smiling_ at him, despite he had been the reason why they were dead. They had put too much trust in him, and he betrayed that trust.

As they walked past him he wasn't able to follow them with his gaze due to the pair of people right behind them. A sight that clenched his heart even more so than before.

The short girl with auburn hair and huge green eyes and the tall young man with icy blue orbs were now marching excitedly to him with big, happy smiles on both their faces. Seeing them like that, as if all those years hadn't gone by, made him cringe a bit. They were still like he last saw them: young and full of life.

Instead, he was just _so_ old now. He could feel his own bones cracking at each slow and pained movement; his eyesight coming and going whenever it wanted. He was tired and pitiful. So _pitiful_.

And then he saw _him_. _He_ was right behind them, and despite all the other people around them moving _he_ was just standing there, still. _He_ was facing him, watching him as if _he_ hadn't seen him in years and that was exactly how it was...but _he_ had been dead, all this time while he had grieved and died every day a bit more inside.

They stood there, looking at each other with so many things unsaid between them but so many things _understood_. He could see into those huge, teal eyes and understand everything that was going on inside that head of _his_. And that smile. The same smile that could brighten up a room, the same smile that he had swore he would paint on that mouth every day for the rest of their lives...before that day. Walls, he had missed that smile. Those eyes. He had missed _him_.

 _He_ walked towards him before stopping a few inches away and the only thing he could feel was embarrassment: he was so old while _he_ was still the young, alive, bright brat he had known so many decades ago, the brat he had learnt to love.

So much time had gone by since then. His hair was completely white; his face deformed by wrinkles and the dots of old age; his once silver eyes were now cloudy and shiny. While _he_... _he_ hadn't changed one bit. _His_ eyes were still vibrant and colourful; _his_ hair was still unruly while  _his_ skin was as smooth as on the day he first touched _him_. 

He wearily look as _he_ lifted a hand, stretching it expectedly towards him and waiting for him to take it. And taking it he did, without doubts, without second thoughts.

 _He_ turned around and started walking, going against the horde of people that were still flooding around them; _his_ grip on his hand was sure but delicate at the same time.

It was just so telling: the two of them walking hand in hand against the flow. Just like so many years ago.

And when Eren turned around to look at him and smiled childishly, Levi couldn't do much but smile in return, feeling happy for the first time in thirty years.

 

<<I saw him yesterday>>.

Armin shifted his gaze from the body resting in the chair in front of the window to Mikasa, whose eyes were still focused on Levi's pale and cold corpse.

In those thirty years, the two Ackermans had put aside their divergences and found a sort of silent bond after Eren's death, the pain being their common denominator. Mikasa would come to visit him pretty often in that solitary, cold, clean house of his and spend most of the day with him.

Mikasa furrowed her brows, in deep thought. <<He seemed fine>>.

The blonde man sighed as he put a hand on her shoulder. <<He had always been like that, you know it. Always pretending to be okay>>.

<<No>>, Mikasa claimed while shaking her head. <<He was more...at ease, yesterday. More relaxed. Like I hadn't seen him since...since Eren's death>>.

<<Probably he felt it coming>>.

At those words the raven-haired woman nodded slowly, accepting that explanation with a long, dragged sigh. <<Yeah>>.

They stood in front of the chair a bit more, taking in the by then cold cup of tea next to the armrest and the relaxed expression on that old, wrinkled face. Mikasa walked towards him, kneeling right in front of the dead body and resting her hand on top of his freezing one. The thought in her head made her smile tenderly as she looked up at that face that she had hated so much back in the days.

<<At least>>, she whispered as if not to disturb his slumber, <<they're together now>>.

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo...this is my first official ff - wow, that sounds so strange to say o.O. I've always written things but never let others read them ('m kinda self-conscious about it, actually). I apologise for any mistake (English' not my first language even if I live in UK and the ff is beta'd by me) and if any of you has comments or advices I'd be happy to improve my writing style.  
> The work was inspired by "The sound of silence" by Disturbed and while I was listening to the song, going back home from work late at night I just couldn't bring myself to think anything else but Eren and Levi...Gosh, that's sooooo sad o.O  
> Anyway, I hope this won't be my first and last work (I've got some more to work on) and hopefully won't be THIS sad XP  
> Thank you ever so much for reading :)  
> *bows deeply*
> 
> EDIT: Oh my Gosh, thank you SO much for your kudos. It means really a lot to me. Thank you XD


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